


started on a cold night

by cherryraindrops



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Luke and Ashton are there but they are not named lmao, M/M, One Night Stand AU, i don't know what this is, it says explicit but honestly there isn't much sex oops, just to be safe mostly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 18:05:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8337511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryraindrops/pseuds/cherryraindrops
Summary: It was unclear if they truly were meant to be with each other that fateful night. It was unclear if this reunion was a sign that they should stay connected in some way. The only thing that remained perfectly clear was that somewhere deep down in each of them, whether they knew it or not, part of their souls were meant to intertwine.or, Calum has a passionate night with a stranger, and it's all he can think about for the next year





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dafeedil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dafeedil/gifts).



> I started writing this last night with the idea of a one night stand in mind. While previously I had the idea of making it a long, possibly 13k fic, as time went along I realized that I liked it better at this length. It's different for me, but the end result is something I quite enjoy. 
> 
> I rated it Explicit because while the sex isn't quite detailed, it does contain elements of detail that could qualify. Sorry, but no full on smut from me. I apologize. 
> 
> Title from Muscle Memory by Lights, which if you listen to the acoustic version, fits this fic perfectly. 
> 
> Also this fic is for [Angie](http://dafeedil.tumblr.com/) because she continues to be the main reason I write malum. Hope you enjoy the final product peach.

They met, coincidentally, on a night where the rain refused to let up. It created puddles all across the sidewalks of Los Angeles, various party goers darting for their cars or the clubs in an attempt to escape the pelting rain drops. Luckily for Calum, however, he was already rescued from the rain within the walls of the nightclub he occasionally escaped to on the weekends. His whiskey brown eyes trace each person coming through the door, watching as the complain of how the rain has soaked them to the bone from standing in the queue, or how grateful they are to have finally been allowed inside to escape the cold of outside.

Calum nurses the glass of scotch in his hands delicately, taking slow drinks as he continues to observe the life around him. Sometimes he would join the groups in dances, maybe approach a few men or women in hopes of bringing them home with him for a night of warmth and passion. Other times he would come with his own group of friends, stumbling over one another as they fight over who will take the tab for the night. These nights, the ones where he came alone to observe silently, were quite rare.

Being alone had become quite the staple for Calum’s adult life. While he did pride himself with the group of friends he had managed to accumulate from his college life, he couldn’t see any of them really sticking for much longer once the party scene they had all lived for would begin to die out. None of them were the kind of people Calum could proudly say were his best friend, the ones who he would ride or die for. If he was being completely and fully honest with himself and others, he would refer to them as friends who were just _there._ They were great for a good time, nothing more.

Another group of eager twenty somethings comes through the door, some tangled up with each other as they head off towards the bar with credit cards waving in the air. The men of the group are far too energetic for Calum’s tastes, and the women who came in with them are already having a hard time with walking as they stumble around on their high heels. Calum wouldn’t be surprised if their trouble with balance wasn’t because of the shoes, but some pre party drinks that were hitting a little too heavy.

It’s one of the men in the group, however, that seems to stand out from them all. Calum isn’t quite sure why he just seemed to lock on to this man in particular, despite the bleached blonde hair and how he seemed to stand taller than them all. In fact, he couldn’t find anything particularly fascinating about this man other than the fact that he wasn’t sticking with his group. He seemed completely and utterly disinterested in everything surrounding him, checking his watch constantly and keeping his hands hidden within the pockets of his leather jacket.

When he turned to face over where Calum was, sitting alone surrounded by empty tables, it felt as if everything had fallen silent. Whatever song that had been playing throughout the club became insignificant to Calum’s ears as he traced the man’s pale skin, the way his lips were the color of ripe cherries. He could easily blame the warmth currently spreading through his stomach on the scotch settling in, but with the way his jeans have suddenly grown tighter speaks a far different story.

It takes him by surprise when he doesn’t even have to get up from his seat to approach this man; Just as he is about to abandon his scotch the man has already began his trek towards Calum, long legs wrapped tightly in black skinny jeans only creating further ideas in Calum’s mind. He’s even more enticing up close, Calum notes as the man easily slides into the seat across from him, a smirk already playing on his lips.

It feels like he’s beckoning Calum into a sort of challenge, and Calum was damn sure he was going to walk away victorious. “I’m guessing your friends are not as interesting as me?” It rolls of the tongue easily, and he wraps his fingers around his glass once more to finish the last few drops of scotch settled at the bottom.

The man shakes his head, running a hand through his bleached hair. Calum can see finger tattoos, one on each finger becoming lost in the mess of hair. An eyebrow piercing decorates his right brow, a deep purple jewel. Emerald eyes sparkle with nothing but confidence as he leans forward, seduction evident. “I doubt anything in this club could be as interesting as you.”

The rain continues to pour outside, many more Los Angeles residents enter and leave. While they were intriguing at the beginning of his night, they suddenly fade into background noise as he becomes lost in the flirtatious nature of this beautiful stranger. He’s making it all effortless, words sharp and precise, and Calum wonders just how much practice this man has had.

He never learns his name, even as the man takes his hand and guides him through the throngs of people towards the dance floor. Those cherry lips are attached to the dark skin of Calum’s neck, sucking deep, swollen bruises underneath his jawline as they hold each other close. Throaty whispers send tingles straight down Calum’s body, hands keeping a tight grip on his ass as they grind close together. In return, Calum does not give out his name either, instead licking hotly into the man’s mouth as their bodies meld into each other.

They decide on Calum’s apartment later, only seconds after the man has finished cleaning Calum’s dripping cock with his long tongue. He explains that it’s a reward; he gives Calum a stellar blowjob in the nightclub’s rather disgusting bathroom, Calum rewards him by taking him back to his apartment and allowing the man to pleasure him in all the ways he can imagine.

It feels more intimate than it should, being fucked by a complete stranger. Calum can’t help but cling to the pale boy’s body, trembling in his grasp as he wraps his legs tightly around his waist as he keeps in careful rhythm with the erratic thrusts the man delivers. His nails dig deep, crescent shapes into the man’s shoulder blades, decorating his back with angry, passionate red marks. It’s the greatest feeling Calum has had in so long, the passion and feeling of lust overpowering his brain until he’s become nothing but putty in the hands of this man. He doesn’t care just what this man does to him, as long as he continues to thrust into him with such fervor, continues to breathe hotly into Calum’s mouth and swallowing down the eager moans that tumble out.

Underneath the lust and intensity, Calum feels a sensation he hasn’t felt in forever, and it takes him by surprise that he is even _considering_ that this situation could even come close to such a thing. It’s far too ridiculous, and voicing such a thing would lead to an end to what could be the greatest fucking he’s received in _forever._

He awakens in the morning with the sheets sticking to his body, sore from the night’s activities, and only the memory of his vanished lover. His hands reach out for only an empty space, but Calum knows he did not dream of the passion he endured that night. It was incredibly real, a sensation that could not have been simply dismissed as a wet dream.

A note is all that remains of the man, his name remaining a mystery as Calum reads aloud, “You will forever be the greatest memory.”

Calum holds onto the note, though he cannot bring himself to understand why.

**

A year has passed, and despite taking on numerous new lovers over the past twelve months, Calum cannot stop thinking about that one rainy night in Los Angeles. None of these other lovers can reignite the feeling the nameless stranger gave him, the burn of desire that ignited every inch of him only lives on in the emerald eye man who bid farewell with only a single note and long lasting night of love.

Calum hasn’t been back to that nightclub since that night. At times his friends would invite him along on their escapades, tempting him with booze and new people to take home, but the appeal has long since been lost. He knows he’s losing them, becoming the stick in the mud he feared he’d become as he grew into adulthood. It’s not like he _wanted_ to become this; monogamy was actually the furthest from his mind.

The man though, he couldn’t deny he wanted to see him at least once more. Even if it was just a quick glimpse in an overly crowded pub. Calum just needed to see those lustful emerald eyes once again, trace the pale skin with his beautifully contrasting dark skin. The sensation of their bodies connecting like perfect puzzle pieces haunts him at night in his wildest dreams, just how tempting and delicious the stranger was.

No one could come close to compare, and Calum believed that maybe this was his downfall.

Six months after their tryst, Calum had packed up and moved away from Los Angeles. It was no longer the City of Dreams within his diminished eyes, instead withering into nothing but a failed plan of his early twenties. He longed for some place new to reignite the fire buried deeply in his soul, somewhere that would allow brand new opportunities and a chance at proving that his move to America was not a complete and total waste.

It leads him to New York City; he’s not sure how much of a step up it is from Los Angeles, but he couldn’t help but miss city life. He didn’t mind the hustle and bustle roaring outside when he left his bedroom window open. For so long he had lived within a tired and small town in Australia, and the moment he gained a taste of city life he couldn’t simply abandon it. He was held deeply in the city’s grasp, and he wasn’t fighting it.

His apartment is a little more spectacular than the one he had back in Los Angeles. He’s upgraded to a stylish loft, though he must admit it is a little too big for just himself. Bachelorhood has never bothered him at all, but the space surrounding the apartment sure does. It’s far too wide, so much space for only one man nearly suffocating. Calum sometimes wonders if he should invest in a pet, not quite a goldfish but definitely someone to make up for the space.

Not for a moment does he believe maybe the company of another person could solve the case. Whenever one of his new friends brings up the possibility of Calum allowing somebody in, he simply dismisses their suggestion in fear that the man from that one night in Los Angeles would pop into his mind and haunt him.

It's silly, but he has kept the note his mysterious lover left behind. It’s buried underneath various keepsakes in his nightstand, though on some occasional nights he well shuffle through the drawer and pull it out just to trace each and every letter on the paper. It makes him curious as to what had been going through the man’s mind as he wrote it, if he too thinks about Calum after a whirlwind of a year. Calum doubts that chance, of course, but sometimes it helps him sleep at night.

His new friends take him out to a little run down pub on his birthday, something to drag him out of his large loft and into the New York City nightlife. It’s not exactly the greatest place Calum has seen since he has moved to the city, with the grungy décor and less than stellar beer. He was beginning to wonder if this was a sign to how his life was going to start becoming in his late twenties; drinking in low lit pubs, the only two friends he’s made in New York attempting to get him excited about his surroundings when in reality the only entertainment happening around them was a lone singer in the corner who had yet to appear.

Calum’s begun to adapt to the taste of the stale beer when the singing act finally steps onto the darkened stage, head hung low as they reach for their guitar resting up against the backdrop provided for his performance. Calum can’t quite make out a face for the performer, only catching a glimpse of his dark clothing. A sign beside the stage announces his name on a lit up marquee, citing him as a performer for the loners.

Maybe it has to do with the alcohol resting in his stomach, but Calum feels himself drawn to the performer in a way he hasn’t been drawn to a human since a year before. He watches the man take his seat on the stool set up for him, adjusting the guitar in his lap and tuning it the way he wants it, and that’s when Calum catches a small glimpse of a finger tattoos.

The lights onstage begin to flicker on, illuminating the performer and stealing all of the air from Calum’s lungs in one go. The performer’s fingers come to position on the neck of his guitar, his other hand beginning the play a soft melodic tune that sounds familiar to Calum’s ears. He can’t name it off of the top of his head, but that wasn’t even the priority at the moment.

Sitting on stage, cherry lips moving beautifully as he sings the words to a broken love song, was the man who had haunted Calum’s dreams for an entire year. His bleached blond hair still remained a fixture, though it looked somewhat healthier than Calum had remembered it being when he had run his fingers through it during their night together. His eyebrow piercing has vanished, unless he has taken it out for his performance. He wears a white button up, sleeves rolled up and displaying a couple more tattoos that Calum doesn’t remember seeing when they had been together.

_When I am alone, I_

_See you in the dark, I_

_Talk into the empty_

_Like you were with me_

His voice sends Calum into complete hypnosis once more, drawing him closer towards the stage to catch a better glimpse of the boy who left him the year before. It’s rough, but the edges of it are soft enough to have Calum’s chest warm up as the lyrics sink into this skin. It’s a slow, sad tune, one that seems to settle into Calum’s core as the lyrics reflect his year in almost perfect harmony.

It’s wishful thinking, but a part of Calum wonders if such a haunting song could have been written about their fleeting moment only a year before.

The man’s emerald eyes remain closed throughout the song, the singer fully indulging himself into his own lyrics as he continues to sing with loneliness and melancholia lacing every word. It’s such sincerity that has Calum mourning on every word, weeping for the man’s own sadness. This was someone who’s words could move someone, express a story that a stranger has never heard but suddenly has all the answers to. His voice is the very thing that carries the heartbreak home, crumbling the hearts of anyone whose ears hear them.

When the song comes to a close, the man’s emerald eyes finally flutter open and land directly in front of him. It must seem all too familiar to him, noticing Calum nursing a bottle of beer in a low lit interior looking interested and alone. It’s almost a replica of the moment they met, and it has Calum’s heart thudding erratically in his chest at just what could come next in their story that had previously been concluded.

It feels too much like a to be continued now, and oh how Calum wanted it to continue.

It’s an unexpected emotion that crosses the man’s face when his eyes connect with Calum’s; a smile embraces his cherry lips, one that shows disbelief and recognition all in one. He chuckles into the microphone, low and lovely, and it makes Calum’s heart skip.

It’s a little ridiculous how he feels after a year, but Calum can’t help but know that this was supposed to happen. This was the sensation that had been following him around in his dreams, his consciousness ever since that fateful night they had laid eyes upon one another. They were meant to meet again, to see each other once more in a familiar setting.

Their story was meant to continue.

“Most of the songs I have performed over the past year have been about a particular night that won’t leave my head,” the man speaks, voice still as husky and calming as Calum remembers. “It’s something I should have let go, forgotten about, but has haunted me wherever I turn. I can’t sleep, can’t dream properly without the images of a night that changed me flipping through my head.” His eyes wonder to Calum, and his next words are direct. “It will forever be my greatest memory.”

The melancholic tune continues, a song of words that should have been said, but have remained hanging in the air for the time being. Just as the memory of the man has been, the words haunt Calum to his core.

_I don’t love you, but I always will_

**

“Michael.”

It’s the name Calum has been wondering about for a year, and it fits almost perfectly to the man sitting before him. Both hold glasses of whiskey in their grasp, reminiscent of the night they had met a year before. Michael had joined him after his set had eventually wrapped up, almost hesitant but with a look of confidence contradicting it. Calum’s friends seemed to have received the hint of them wanting to be alone and have settled across the pub into their own little booth, carrying on their own conversation. Calum can see them peeking over at them every now and then though, and it makes him chuckle.

“I’m sorry I left you before the sun was up,” Michael apologizes, his tattooed fingers tracing the condensation on the glass. “One night stands have never quite been something that stayed with me. Normally I am able to leave without even a regret in my mind, but with you?” A twinkle of remembrance sparkles in his eye. “God, I didn’t even know you beyond the taste of your skin and yet something told me that we were supposed to have met that night. Is it strange to think such a thing?”

It wasn’t, he wants to say. After all, wasn’t this all Calum could think about for the past year? The longing of Michael’s skin against his once more, bodies connecting hot and heavy like the night they had met? The feel of those cherry lips pressed against his neck, littering his dark skin with harsh reminders of his lust?

His feeling was beyond that. While the sexual aspects of their encounter continued to be the main character in his dreams, he couldn’t help but have his mind wander towards the other aspects of what they could have been. The future they could have together past body talk. There could be a future where that was possible, one that they could fight for if it was something they desperately wanted.

To answer Michael’s question, Calum shakes his head. “Not at all.” He reaches forward, pulling Michael’s fingers from around the glass and connecting them with his. They are rough, calloused like they were the infamous night. It’s a familiar, longing touch that Calum has yearned for, and to have it back in his reach was something out of his wildest dreams.

It was unclear if they truly were meant to be with each other that fateful night. It was unclear if this reunion was a sign that they should stay connected in some way. The only thing that remained perfectly clear was that somewhere deep down in each of them, whether they knew it or not, part of their souls were meant to intertwine.

In which aspect, however, was something both of them were willing to find out.

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me on tumblr at lucasashtons :)


End file.
